


Messy Business

by Misty_Reeyus



Series: Fuckbuddies Verse [1]
Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: BDSM elements, During Canon, F/F, Fuckbuddies, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 06:11:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11155893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misty_Reeyus/pseuds/Misty_Reeyus
Summary: Magilou makes an offer that Velvet doesn’t refuse.Then it happens again, and again, and again.





	Messy Business

**Author's Note:**

> it’s literally 14k words of nothing but weird self-indulgent porn

Velvet puts Laphicet to sleep atop the grassiest, softest patch of floor these ruins can offer, and he’s so exhausted that he konks out within minutes. She can’t blame him; it’s been one hell of a day. Getting their asses kicked by Artorius at the Throne, being sucked into an earthpulse and then dropped off in the middle of who-knows-where, having to make a deal with that self-righteous crybaby exorcist…admittedly, Velvet’s pretty damn tired herself. But she doesn’t feel like sleeping just yet, she still needs some time to clear her head after all that’s happened, so Velvet heads back outside the temple to breathe in some more of the cool, crisp nighttime air…

“Hell of a tool, ain’t he?”

Velvet scowls, turning towards the familiarly aggravating voice.

Magilou stands with her back leaned up against the outer wall of the temple, her gaze aimed down to the ground. “Lucky you, that your stolen malak turns out to have powers far beyond your imagining. You even got him all imprinted on you to boot, nice touch.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Magilou glances up, meeting Velvet’s eyes with a grin. “Sweetie, wouldn’t you say he’s just like a faithful little puppydog? Even after he’s regained his ‘free will’, he’s still so quick to do whatever he’s told. New master, new orders, but it’s all the same in the end.”

Red flashes in Velvet’s vision, because fuck her, Magilou is right.

Velvet was unfair to Laphicet in the Throne: giving him orders, treating him as the object she encouraged him _not_ to be. She sees that now, and she regrets pushing him as far as she did, both for how it’s affected her mission and for the way it’s made him feel. She apologized to him for it, but that doesn’t change the fact her actions nearly turned him into a daemon.

Velvet shouldn’t even care in the first place. To kill Artorius, she is willing to use every tool at her disposal, anything and anyone she can. But somehow, the knowledge that she hurt Laphicet like that…

It gets under her skin.

“I suppose it’s because he’s just so grateful you gave him a name, though,” Magilou continues, her voice bouncing over thin ice, and Velvet clenches her fist to keep herself in check. But then Magilou puts her hands on her hips, her tone dropping to something dark and accusatory when next she says, “A name that belonged to someone else first.”

That is _it_.

Magilou only prods at Velvet because she likes to get a rise out of her, and Velvet is fully aware, so it shouldn’t be _working_. But dammit, it’s all it’s true, and dammit, everything about that judging, know-it-all look pisses Velvet off to high heaven. Before she even realizes she’s moving, Velvet is already grasping Magilou by the neck, slamming her up against the temple wall, threateningly hovering her face mere inches from Magilou’s own.

“What the hell is your _damage_?” Velvet hisses, squeezing her fingers just the slightest bit tighter around Magilou’s throat, not enough to truly choke her out but enough to threaten that she could do so with a mere thought—

But then Magilou moans.

And it’s not a moan of protest, or a moan of pain. No, it’s an illicit moan that comes bursting from her lips while laced with _pleasure_ , as Magilou then arches her hips against Velvet’s. It’s so blatantly erotic that Magilou had to have done that entirely on purpose—and the worst part is that Velvet feels her stupidly hormonal body actually _respond_ , a twinge of pure heat shooting through her before settling briefly, _infuriatingly_ , between her legs.

Velvet instantly recoils and releases Magilou, disgusted with her for giving such a shameless display, but more disgusted with herself for actually _falling_ for it.

“Of course,” Velvet mutters. “You just have to turn everything into some twisted joke, don’t you?”

“Now who said that was a joke?” Magilou gasps, and Velvet would brush her off were it not for something genuinely breathless in her tone.

“…Excuse me?”

“I’m saying you’re _hot_ when you’re mad, Velvet.” Well, Magilou must be done dancing around the subject tonight. “So hot that honestly, I’d let you do anything you wanted to me as long as it’d get me off.”

Velvet narrows her eyes. “Just what is your game here, Magilou?”

“The type of game with no strings attached. I told you, I’m just here killing time, and nothing kills time quite like a good ol’ sexcapade.” Magilou leans forward, trails her finger lightly over Velvet’s chin, and _shit_ , why isn’t Velvet pulling away? “Good way of releasing pent-up stress, too, which anyone can tell _you_ need from a mile away now that you’ve screwed up the whole murder-revenge business.”

Magilou is too damn good at goading, because Velvet is seriously feeling tempted now. To try and abate that, she glances back over to the doorway of the temple, the entrance to where Laphicet is sleeping inside, and finds herself wondering belatedly where the others in their group even went.

“Worried about our company?” Magilou chimes, flippantly placing her hands behind her head. “Well, the boy’s sound asleep, Bienfu’s still busy watching over our fainted exorcist captive, and a while back, I saw Eizen dragging Rokurou deeper into the temple to lecture him about the architectural styles of the ancients or whatever. So I’d say we have at least ten minutes before anyone comes looking for us, twenty if Eizen’s _really_ worked up.”

Magilou straightens up with a shit-eating grin before leaning back against the wall, spreading her legs apart slightly, pointedly. “So whaddaya say, Velvet? Up for a quick spell?”

Velvet bites her lip.

She’s never actually… _done it_ before. There wasn’t really any chance to in solitary confinement, and before that, the closest she ever got to performing anything even remotely sexual was occasionally tormenting Niko with some friendly breast groping. In retrospect, that may have been less “friendly” than it was flirty, but soon enough, Niko was dating that apprentice vet, and Velvet never did sort out just how she really felt about that before the Scarlet Night hit and everything went to hell in a horse’s ass.

Velvet doesn’t trust Magilou one whit. But Artorius has been a weight on Velvet’s mind for so, _so_ long, and now tossing in all this business with Innominat and Laphicet and Eleanor, Velvet admittedly could use someone to take it all out on. As a human, Velvet would probably have been nervous about losing her chastity, but now that she’s a daemon, the only thing she gives a good goddamn about is revenge.

And the idea of enacting revenge against this smug bitch for always running her smart mouth is more than a little appealing.

…Fuck it. If Magilou is offering herself as a punching bag, there’s no reason to say no.

But Velvet doesn’t say yes, either, doesn’t speak her answer at all; instead, she gives it by shoving Magilou back up against the temple wall. Magilou lets out a harsh groan followed by a breathy sigh that sounds oddly content, so Velvet’s probably playing straight into her hands, but right now, she can’t bring herself to care.

“Just remember, you’re the one who asked for this,” Velvet growls. “You said you’d let me do _anything_ I want. So I’d better not hear any complaints, no matter what.”

Velvet means it as a threat. Magilou lights up as if it’s a promise.

But Velvet might just get trapped up in her own inexperience if she gives herself time to think, so she moves as swiftly as she can in order to escape those thoughts. Her left hand promptly flips up the front book of Magilou’s skirt while her right makes quick work of sliding down Magilou’s shorts and panties, until they’re past hooked knees and gravity sends both garments dropping to her ankles.

That’s good enough for Velvet, so next order of business is to dip her right hand between Magilou’s already eagerly parted legs. Velvet has touched herself enough times to have a rough idea of where to go, pressing her thumb to her clit, angling two fingers into Magilou easier than Velvet ever could actually angle them into herself. Velvet immediately sets herself to thrusting into Magilou with a series of hard jabs, basic and experimental, and Magilou bucks against her hand, biting her lip down on a muffled moan.

That’s surprising, Magilou actually trying to be quiet, but Velvet won’t complain when she’s of the same mindset. She doesn’t particularly want to risk alerting Eizen or Rokurou as to what’s happening out here, and more importantly, she doesn’t want to wake Laphicet who’s slumbering just inside. Magilou’s not entirely succeeding in her venture though, and when Velvet decides that two fingers ought be three and then starts to spread and curl, pale lips part open with the beginnings of a loud cry.

Velvet takes action before the sound can truly ring out, instantly zipping up to clamp her left hand over Magilou’s mouth. She digs her fingertips lightly into Magilou’s cheek and chin before morphing them into pointed claws behind her bandages, not enough to fully release her daemon arm, but enough to threaten that she could do so with a mere thought.

“Be quiet,” Velvet whispers harshly, “or I cave in your skull.”

Those must be the magic words, because after Velvet says them, it only takes a couple more thrusts before Magilou visibly twitches and shudders. The walls around Velvet’s fingers tense up, clenching tight, and Magilou’s whole body convulses in the most oddly _stunning_ way before fluid rushes all over Velvet’s hand, even starts dripping down the ancient shrine wall. That cannot be sanitary and is probably every form of sacrilegious, but Velvet doesn’t give a damn.

Magilou, who slumps down against the wall until she’s sitting on her bare butt on the grass, clearly doesn’t give a damn either.

Magilou’s cheeks are flushed and her eyes are glassy, and something about the sight urges Velvet to squeeze her own thighs together, scissor them until something _give_ _s_. She doesn’t, seeing as the insides of her own shorts are already quite wet, and she won’t be able to contain much more messiness within this shredded fabric. But just the knowledge that Velvet was able to shut Magilou up, render her a boneless, breathless heap, is enough to make this whole thing worth it.

“So,” Magilou gasps a minute later, once she’s got some air back in her lungs. Looking down at herself, she wipes her soaked thighs with her hands, then, in turn, wipes her hands clean on the grass. “That make you feel better?”

Honestly, it did, but like hell is Velvet about to outright admit it.

“Why would you want it to? Weren’t you the one who wanted me to break?” Magilou’s got a staggering 100 gald riding on that, after all.

“Well sure, but don’t you break on me _too_ soon. Wouldn’t be any fun if I won so easily.”

Velvet grits her teeth, clenching her left hand in a fist before her chest.

“I won’t give up,” she says, but it’s not so much directed at Magilou as it is simply another reminder to herself. “Artorius _will_ die at my hand.”

“Mmhmm. Whatever you say.” Magilou yawns, yanking her shorts up and getting back onto her feet. “For now, let’s rejoin the others and rest up. We’re all on exorcist watch tomorrow.”

* * *

Velvet isn’t ashamed of their sexual encounter.

It didn’t mean anything, after all. For Velvet, it was just a way to let out some of her pent-up aggression and frustration after failing to kill Artorius, and whatever strange carnal pleasure Magilou got out of it, that’s clearly all it was to her, too. Velvet fucked Magilou and she’s not ashamed of it because there’s nothing else to say—but Velvet doesn’t say it to anyone anyway, since it’s none of their business. Magilou doesn’t seem to want to go blabbing to the others either, so it suits Velvet just fine to act like it never happened at all.

Until it happens a second time.

Port Reneed’s inn is somewhat small but amicably pleasant, and when Eizen suggests staying for a little longer so that they can both continue lying low and get some actual rest, Velvet figures that’s not a bad bet. It’s been a long day, after that scare with the Corsair’s Scourge and that trouble with Laphicet’s beetle and all that running around chasing after Zaveid—not to mention, Laphicet seems happy to have more time to spend geeking out with the innkeeper’s kid. So as he joins Videl on the bench and the two new friends start pouring over a book together, Velvet ducks inside the inn to make herself at home.

She’s not even two steps inside when Magilou comes dashing out from the room in front of her.

“Hey Velvet,” she drawls, “I’m gonna need some help in my room. I can’t get my bedsheets on properly when they’ve got no strings attached.”

Velvet understands what Magilou’s hinting at instantly, but that doesn’t mean she has to go along with it. Crossing her arms, she mutters, “The bedsheets here don’t need strings.”

“Really?” Magilou quirks a brow. “You sure you don’t wanna come in and check on that?”

Gods, this makes Velvet feels like she’s eight again, playing spy around the house and using stupidly obvious codewords that even three-year-old Laphi could see through without trouble. But…she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t interested. Having gone through all these detours and distractions when she had been hoping they’d be in Yseult by now hasn’t exactly helped keep her tensions down.

Her encounter with Magilou at the Yvolg Ruins was just business. Business that served as a helpful release to Velvet then, and that would, quite frankly, be worth repeating now.

“Shut the hell up,” Velvet growls, but plants her hand to Magilou’s chest to shove her straight back into the room anyway.

Once they’re both inside, Velvet makes a point of shutting the door behind them and clicking the lock. The moment they’re safely out of the others’ sights, Magilou quits beating around the bush, her grin blooming unrestrained. “Oooh, feeling feisty today, Velvet? You agreed to that easier than I thought you would.”

“You’re the one literally begging for it. Might as well just get it over with so you’ll quit bugging me.”

The smalltalk is shoved aside as they launch straight to business. Velvet rips off the book-skirt while Magilou fumbles her feet to kick off pink boots. Magilou practically throws herself backwards onto the bed and Velvet follows to straddle her down to the mattress. Velvet tugs off Magilou’s shorts and panties and Magilou unfastens the clasps of her own shirt so that she’s almost fully bare before her.

Magilou starts removing her own sleeves so Velvet shimmies down to yank off her long socks in turn—and when Velvet squeezes one of the stockings in her hand, realizes that it’s wet from sweat after being walked in all day, she pauses and stares.

Velvet remembers the way she shut Magilou up earlier today by shoving sale’tomah down her throat. How satisfying it was, to see all that smugness melt away as Magilou gagged on herself, choked on the taste of her own medicine. Velvet honestly hadn’t felt that satisfied in a while, not since that very night when she fucked Magilou against a ruin wall.

Velvet wants to see that again, so she rolls up the fabric until it’s a compact ball and then brandishes it towards Magilou.

“Open your mouth.”

“…What?” Magilou goes wide-eyed. “N-no! No, Velvet, don’t you dare, that’s filthy!”

Something doesn’t feel entirely genuine about that objection, though. Magilou’s voice trembles more with excitement than fear, and Velvet doesn’t miss how her thighs shift just slightly against one another.

“Only as filthy as you made it.” Velvet arches a brow, high and mighty in the air. “You said last time I could do anything I want, and now, I want to shut up that loud mouth of yours. So open up, or I quit right here.”

Magilou makes a show of protesting, but there’s undeniable desire in her gaze. It was obvious from last time that for whatever reason, Magilou _likes_ the pain, the punishment, even the degradation and humiliation, apparently. She doesn’t actually want this to stop so it’s no real surprise when she obeys, lips parting into a gaping hole that Velvet promptly shoves the makeshift gag into. Magilou instantly chokes on it, and Velvet can only imagine how awful that smell and taste must be.

“Bite down and bear it. The moment that thing leaves your mouth, this is over.”

Magilou gives a muffled whimper into the cloth, which Velvet chooses to take as acquiescence. That done, Velvet lets her gaze travel over the naked body before her and ponders how to proceed.

It’s clear Magilou has had at least _some_ experience, considering how comfortable she was to solicit Velvet in the first place. Velvet’s pretty sure Magilou could tell she was a virgin that first time, too, and she’s somewhat surprised she hasn’t been mocked for her inexperience already. But Velvet is a fast learner, so she’s sure she can figure something out—and anyway, Magilou said herself that she’s willing to take _anything_ Velvet can dish out.

So Velvet decides that this time, she’ll aim for _vicious_ , no holds barred. Without warning, she shoves three right fingers inside Magilou all at once, and maybe that’s harsh or clumsy but it doesn’t seem to matter, because Magilou willingly takes all of it. Hips ruck up into Velvet’s hand and the sounds thankfully end up well-stifled, lodged in Magilou’s throat, so Velvet relentlessly continues. It’s rough and quick and perhaps devoid of any real skill, but Velvet doesn’t care so long as it makes Magilou _writhe_ , and Magilou must not care either, because she’s writhing like a worm.

Velvet still doesn’t have the firmest idea of what she’s doing, but that doesn’t stop her from wanting to go all in. When next her fingers pull out, she shifts them into a full fist, four fingers and thumb that she jams right back in without a second thought. Magilou is small and slim, so Velvet isn’t even sure if she can take this, but Magilou is apparently full of surprises, sucking her hand in wholly whilst arching from the strain and screaming into the gag.

That sock is doing _wonders_ , honestly, because Magilou’s still muffled enough that Velvet doesn’t really feel worried that the noise will disturb any of the others. Velvet glances up from her work to lock onto Magilou’s face: her eyes are squeezed tightly shut, and drool is actually dripping down from the corners of her mouth. That is somehow both absolutely disgusting and weirdly captivating at the same time, and though Magilou wipes at her chin and sputters on herself, she remains obedient, her teeth determinedly biting down to keep the fabric in her mouth.

“Dirty whore,” Velvet hisses, and she’s not sure where the words are coming from but once they’re out, she can’t stop them from spilling past her lips. “You’ll actually do _anything_ to get off? Just how utterly depraved can you get?”

Magilou’s attempt at an answer is too garbled to make out. Velvet just scoffs.

“I bet this doesn’t even begin to touch it, huh? You really are a pervert.” With that, Velvet pistons her fist inside Magilou once, twice, thrice—and that’s all it takes before Magilou’s a goner.

The orgasm sends Magilou’s whole body into visible shivers, and even when Velvet slips her hand out, she’s still twitching from the force of it. Velvet wipes her soaked hand against the bedsheet, and though she’s all too aware of how her own shorts are slick with arousal, she’s had her fill for the time being. Velvet can take care of herself back in her own room later, if she has to.

For now, that show was satisfaction enough.

Magilou sits up and spits the sock out once she’s recovered, making retching noises and giving several hacking coughs before she finally meets Velvet’s gaze.

“I guess that…wasn’t too bad for your second time.” Ah, _there’s_ the mocking of her inexperience. “Your technique is still utterly lacking, though.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“You didn’t hear much of anything, thanks to that awful obstruction.”

Velvet smirks, nodding her head towards the saliva-soaked ball. “Enjoyed the flavor, did you?”

“Oh yeah. Even better than the sale’tomah.” Magilou grins, licking her lips. “You want a taste, sourheart?”

Cheekily, Magilou puckers her lips, as if suggesting a kiss—and Velvet’s stomach abruptly sinks. It’s stupid; Velvet’s a daemon, and she shouldn’t care, and she _doesn’t_ care when it comes to the sex. But the sex is just business, the sex she’s using for her own sake. On the other hand, the idea of actually _locking lips_ with this crazy witch who does nothing but get under her skin…

That’s more than Velvet’s willing to give.

“Not a chance in hell,” Velvet snarls, smacking Magilou in the cheek before rolling off the bed, setting her feet back onto the floor. Magilou blinks up at her with an expression that Velvet can’t quite read before she gives up on trying, turning promptly on her heel to leave the room.

Velvet got what she came for. No point in sticking around.

* * *

“You remember back there in Yseult when you said you’d eat me?”

Magilou doesn’t even preface that with so much as a greeting as she sweeps her way into the tiny ship cabin, where Velvet sits alone at one of the chairs surrounding a small table. Velvet scowls; she holed herself up in this room precisely because she didn’t want to be bothered by anyone. Now that they’ve found Grimoirh and she’s translating the book, they’re a step closer to wherever it is they need to be, but they also just went and turned all of Haria into daemons and after that, Velvet would like some goddamn breathing room.

Magilou clearly isn’t about to let her have it, though, so Velvet resorts to glaring. “What about it?”

“Well, is that offer still on the table?” Magilou takes the seat next to Velvet, faces her while purposefully spreading her legs apart. “Because I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

Velvet sighs. She may have been a virgin before all this, but she is familiar with enough innuendo to realize what Magilou really means. She can’t imagine she’ll like it, though. However Magilou tastes down there, it’s not like Velvet would be able to tell, and the thought of all that stickiness against her chin honestly sounds pretty gross.

Plus, Velvet only fucked Magilou before because she liked the control, liked being able to watch her ever-aggravating teammate squirm and scream. But if she buries her face between Magilou’s thighs, Velvet won’t have much to look at—too much work with too little reward.

…Still. There is a part of that suggestion Velvet finds interesting.

“I’ve got a better idea.”

Velvet whips her arm out without warning, and snatches up Magilou’s wrist to yank her straight out of her chair. She’s so damn _light_ , all twig-like limbs attached to a bony-thin form, and it barely takes any effort for Velvet to drag her in close. Cupping Magilou’s petite ass in her hands, Velvet jolts into a standing position in order to hoist her up and onto the tabletop, and Magilou’s back slams against the surface _hard_.

That sounds rather painful, and Magilou lets out a shout as the sheer force sends her hat tumbling from her head. Velvet doesn’t let that stop her from crawling onto the table herself, sitting down on Magilou’s ribcage.

“Hold still,” Velvet hisses, “and do _exactly_ as I tell you.”

Magilou’s lips curl with self-satisfaction, but Velvet doesn’t plan on playing to her tune this time, not entirely. Velvet lifts her own ass in order to shove her pants down past her waist, shifts on her knees until she’s shimmying out of the garment and kicking it to the floor. When Velvet sits back down again, she’s bare against Magilou, unshaved dark curls brushing against the pale skin beneath Magilou’s collar.

Velvet has fucked Magilou twice, but she didn’t actually get _herself_ off properly either time. That’s going to change right now.

“Eating is going to be _your_ job,” Velvet proclaims, delighting in the way Magilou’s grin melts away in favor of open-mouthed surprise. “Better do your best, because if I don’t like it, you’re getting off all on your own this time.”

Magilou starts to say something but Velvet doesn’t give her the chance to actually finish, instantly launching forward and slamming herself down on Magilou’s mouth to so that the words become a muffled moan against her flesh. Velvet remains pressed down on Magilou’s face for several seconds, establishing her dominance, asserting to the both of them that Velvet is very much still the one in control, before letting up to give Magilou a brief respite.

“So, I’ve got myself a feast, huh?” Magilou murmurs, after taking some moments to catch her breath. “Lucky me.”

Velvet is about to shut her up again, but before she can, Magilou’s already meeting her halfway. A tongue, hot and rough and wet, sweeps along the curve of her thigh, leaves swirling patterns over the skin until Magilou’s lapping at Velvet’s entrance, and that’s enough to send shudders all down her spine. Shit, Velvet really didn’t have a single clue what she was getting herself into when she signed on for this—that felt so weird but also so damn _good_.

Then, Magilou closes her lips around Velvet’s clit, and proceeds to demonstrate how that wasn’t even the half of it.

Despite herself, Velvet slips and falls right into Magilou’s pace, her hips undulating in response to that insanely talented mouth, greedily chasing after the slimy yet splendid touch. Pressure builds in her core as Magilou’s tongue pokes inside her slit, and Velvet ends up instinctively grabbing at her own breasts when her nipples stiffen into peaks beneath her shirt. Teeth scrape back up to graze gently over her hood, making Velvet throw her head back as she bites back a moan—but when those teeth _clamp_ down on the skin of her vulva, Velvet can’t help crying out loud, and is only barely able to cover her mouth with her own hand in time to muffle the most of it.

Down below, Magilou snickers against her.

Blood racing with the need for retribution, Velvet grinds down without mercy, shifting all her weight to her crotch and letting gravity do its work on Magilou’s face. Just for emphasis, she squeezes her knees tighter around her head, and by the sounds of it, that makes it hard to breathe.

Magilou makes a noise against her thigh that’s either agony or ecstasy or honestly probably both, and her left hand flails, patting down the tabletop as if tapping out of a wrestling match. Velvet supposes it’d be a shame to let Magilou suffocate just yet—the witch’s spells are of some use to her in battle, after all—so she only remains there for some moments longer before she shows mercy.

“Bite me like that again,” Velvet growls as she rises, “and I will snap your neck right here, right now, just like this. Understand?”

Magilou, apparently unable to speak through the stickiness and lack of breath, simply nods submissively before picking right back up where she left off.

It doesn’t take much more of that cycle of licking and sucking and nibbling before Velvet is teetering over the edge, though. As much as Velvet hates to admit it, Magilou’s fucking _amazing_ at this, and when she comes, she comes with fire striking through her whole body, stars of light exploding behind closed eyelids, wild grunts pressed into muted noises behind her own palm. Even as Velvet rides out her orgasm, Magilou doesn’t stop, not until Velvet is entirely finished, limp and loose, lowering herself from the table with shaky legs until she’s slumped back down in the chair she started in.

“So,” Magilou finally gasps, after a few minutes of ragged breathing on both their parts, and wipes Velvet’s cum from her chin as she rises to a sitting position on the table. “What’s my verdict?”

Velvet meets Magilou’s eyes, cocking her head in mock-thought. “I suppose you did okay,” she lies through her teeth, because it was definitely loads better than that but Magilou doesn’t need fuel for her ego. “But your little biting stunt will cost you. I’m afraid you won’t be getting your share.”

Magilou gapes, her expression utterly betrayed, and Velvet smirks. Cruel, perhaps, but it’s not as if Velvet has ever been above cruelty, and since she’s already acquired what she needs, she sees nothing to gain in returning the favor.

That’s just what happens when you make a deal with a daemon.

“Noooo!” Magilou moans, squeezing her thighs together. “Velvet, c’mon, please! I’m like a waterfall over here!”

It’s true, Velvet can actually _see_ the wetness seeping through her shorts. But if anything, the begging just makes Velvet more inclined to just leave Magilou here: all wound up, whimpering from denial, pleading for a release that will never be given to her. It’d be a suitable punishment.

Before Velvet can say as much, though, there’s a light knock at the door, and the voice that comes from behind it is dry and increasingly familiar. “If you two are about done,” Grimoirh cuts in, “I found something in your book, and I’d like us to gather up on the deck to discuss it. I’ll have you tell the others that we’re meeting there, too, if you don’t mind.” Without even waiting for an answer, the squeaky patter of normin feet echoes back to them, indicating that Grimoirh has already left.

Oh well. Grimoirh clearly knew exactly what was going on in here, but Velvet doubts the information will actually go beyond her. She doesn’t seem the type to bother with spreading trivial gossip.

“Dammit Grim,” Magilou whines under her breath, “you _cuntbunt_!”

Velvet does _not_ laugh, not even as mirth rises up her throat and nearly threatens to burst from her lips. Before it can, she swallows it right back down, and after she’s wiped herself as clean as she can get, Velvet bends down to snatch her shorts back up from the floor. She stands up on now steady legs and redresses herself, masterfully managing to keep her voice from cracking as she says, “You heard her. This is your problem now, so take care of it yourself. And make it quick, because we’re all having a meeting on the deck soon.”

Magilou shakes her fists, clearly upset to be left hanging, but Velvet’s already turning her back and heading for the exit. As she leaves and closes the door behind her, Velvet glances back through the corner of her eye to watch as Magilou flips up a book to reach between her legs, pouting and muttering to herself the entire way. She’s so put-out that it’s honestly _priceless_ , and once the door clicks fully shut, Velvet can hold her laughter back no longer.

Muffling her chuckles into her hand, she goes off to find the others.

* * *

The fucking becomes something of a habit. More than that, it escalates, too.

Magilou really will do anything to get off, as Velvet comes to learn throughout the myriad sexual encounters they fall into during their therion hunt. She responds best to the rough stuff: being blindfolded, gagged, tied up, slapped, and even scratched up to hell. One time, Velvet tries fucking her up the ass just to see how far she can stretch it—and that’s the moment Velvet truly realizes that there is _nothing_ she can think of that Magilou isn’t entirely willing to take. In fact, the more painful it is, the more enthusiastic Magilou gets, especially if there’s blood drawn or bruises left behind.

Though, the marks never actually stay—Magilou needs only use some healing spells to fix herself up, and she comes out looking as flawless as ever. That also serves to prevent their nighttime relationship from getting out, because far as Velvet can tell, Grimoirh aside, the others don’t actually know. Velvet wouldn’t actually care too much if they did know, because she’s not ashamed and she’d admit to it if they asked. But if any of them suspect, they never do bother to bring it up.

(The closest call they ever get is Phi telling Velvet one morning, after a rare night in which they fucked in Velvet’s room instead of Magilou’s, “I thought I heard moans coming from your room last night. Were you cleaning again?”

“…Yes. Cleaning.” Velvet manages, not entirely a lie, because she did have to scrub her bedsheets afterwards. It’s why she usually goes to Magilou’s room instead of her own—the mess isn’t her problem if she doesn’t have to sleep in it. But Phi doesn’t need to know those details.

Thank fuck Magilou was gagged up tight for that one.)

No matter how commonplace it’s become, though, it’s still just a mutually beneficial arrangement: one in which Magilou gets all her screwed-up masochistic urges satiated and Velvet gets to take out her tensions on an ever-willing victim. And since they’ve settled into something of a routine by now, Velvet doesn’t even blink when, the night after they recruit Medissa to their cause, Magilou catches her alone in a hallway of Titania, twirls a pair of handcuffs—god knows where she found those—around her finger, and winks.

Some minutes later, they end up in the prison’s west tower, a spot that is entirely empty at this hour since all the pirates are off either sleeping or drinking themselves silly. They pick the least grimy cell they can find and Magilou strips and Velvet cuffs her hands together above her head before pushing her onto to the propped up piece of plywood that passes for a bed here. For the hell of it, Velvet undoes one of the belts around her legs to loop it between the handcuff and bed chains, firmly strapping Magilou’s wrists in place.

Now, Magilou lies before her, all tied up and waiting to be unraveled—and Velvet sits herself back and contemplates just what she’s going to do this time. One, because watching Magilou shiver in suspense is amusing in its own right, and two, because Velvet’s tap of creativity has quite honestly been running dry lately, and these sessions aren’t nearly as satisfying for either of them if they don’t keep putting some sort of spin on things.

In absentminded consideration, Velvet offhandedly swipes a horizontal line  with her finger across Magilou’s bare stomach—and when Magilou’s breath catches, Velvet swears she can almost hear it laced with a choked giggle.

Velvet pauses at the sound, then, after a beat, experimentally wriggles her fingertips over either side of Magilou’s hipbones. Magilou quickly bites down on her lip, but not quickly enough to fully hide the startled laugh-yelp that initially bursts from her.

“…Hey, Vel,” Magilou gasps after a minute, and there’s a quiver of something _different_ in her voice, not quite anticipation and not even fear. Curiosity, or confusion maybe—Magilou sounds _unsure_ here, whereas all the promises of vicious, excruciating fucking never could make her so much as bat an eye. “What are you doing?”

Velvet’s lips curl with inspiration. It seems there’s more than one way to make Magilou squirm.

“Just testing a theory,” Velvet chimes back, casually taking up Magilou’s panties from the pile of discarded witch clothes and balling it up. Magilou doesn’t even bother protesting this time, mouth instantly popping open, and Velvet swiftly shoves the fabric inside, then further ensures that it’s held firmly in place by weaving another of her belts between the cloth and Magilou’s lips.

Velvet has a feeling they’ll be needing a tight gag now more than ever.

“Don’t choke. If you can help it, that is.”

That’s all the warning Velvet gives before digging her fingers into Magilou’s sides.

Magilou’s reaction is instant, and even more spectacular than Velvet expected. She deduced rather easily just now that Magilou was ticklish, but the sheer force with which Magilou arches her back and the peaking volume with which her scream rings out despite being muffled is enough to leave Velvet gaping. Her mouth lies parted in an ‘o’ for some seconds before it finally spreads into a wide, wicked grin.

“Sensitive?” Velvet taunts, and lightly, _threateningly_ , taps fingernails over the bumps of her ribcage.

Magilou whimpers softly, and it’s music to Velvet’s ears.

“You love to laugh, don’t you, Magilou? You seem to think it’s funny when you’re making all your jokes, anyway.” Velvet speeds up her fingers, reveling in the way Magilou’s muscles _jump_ from her touch. “Well here’s something else for you to laugh about.”

Velvet knows, from years of tickle fights with her family, which spots tend to be the worst, and now she zeroes in on them expertly and without mercy. Teasing over Magilou’s ribs gets her squealing and bucking her hips, but it’s when Velvet trails her fingers up to flutter them in the hollows of smooth armpits, already slick with sweat, that Magilou truly starts to fall apart. Her whole body seems to strain, and her head shakes violently from side to side, and helpless hysterics come dribbling out the corners of her mouth as stifled laugh-moans. It’s actually impressive just how much noise she’s making, because sure, Magilou’s never entirely quiet, but she’s never been loud like _this_.

Good thing they retreated all the way to this tower. If they hadn’t, somebody definitely would have come bursting in by now.

“This spot is just _awful_ , huh?” Velvet murmurs, using her thumbs to press circles in the pads of of flesh between Magilou’s armpits and breasts. Magilou kicks wildly in response, her knees creating delicious friction against the crotch that pins her legs down, and the sounds leaking from her lips finally become something close to syllables, albeit unintelligible ones.

“Sorry, can’t understand you right now.” Velvet shrugs, not even pausing in her assault. “My guess would be you’re begging me to stop, but we both know I won’t. I can do anything I want, remember?”

Swift as lightning, Velvet abruptly shifts gears, zipping her hands down to Magilou’s hips. That’s apparently the jackpot—the result is a renewed onslaught of fierce wriggling and shrieking, and when Velvet momentarily glances up to her victim’s face, there are visible tears rolling down her cheeks. Yet, despite her obvious state of torment, when Velvet looks back down, Magilou is clearly wet: her thighs scissoring together beneath Velvet’s weight, her thick arousal squishing over pale skin.

“God, you seriously _like_ this, don’t you? You freaky fuck.”

Not that Velvet is really one to talk, seeing as she herself is rather enthusiastically humping herself on Magilou’s still-rocking knee, but at least Velvet still reserves the right to assert control.

The screeching eventually dies down to scattered whimpers, and perhaps that’s a sign that Velvet’s plaything is finally finding it hard to breathe—but fuck, this is _mega-masochist_ _Magilou_ , and her sounds are still clearly a mix of tortured laughs and sobs rather than actual choking. Still, if Velvet keeps this up for too much longer, Magilou might seriously reach her limit, so might as well end this fast.

Velvet shoves both her hands down between Magilou’s clenched legs. Her left hand doesn’t cease with the tickling, ruthlessly exploiting the hypersensitive nerve endings along Magilou’s inner thighs, but Velvet’s right goes straight to business, thumbing the erect clit. Velvet needs only shift her thumb slightly, deliver firm pressure—and Magilou’s gone, crying out and jerking about as she releases all over Velvet’s hand. Magilou rides out her orgasm with near-violent force, and Velvet matches that unsteady rhythm with her own hips until she finally, _finally_ peaks…

When the haze eventually clears and Velvet is able to come to terms with the fact that yep, she actually just came in her pants, Magilou is a limp pile on the board. Her head lolls pathetically to the side as if she were a ragdoll, and Velvet smiles as she undoes the makeshift gag to let the poor girl breathe.

No marks left on Magilou whatsoever, yet somehow, she’s distinctly _more_ of a mess right now than Velvet has ever seen her.

“Y-you _fiend_!” Magilou gasps out, after a few minutes of greedily gulping down air. “You horrible sadistic mistress of…of _torture_!”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Velvet chuckles, and before she can stop herself, teasingly trills her fingers over Magilou’s still-exposed armpits.

“ _No_!” Magilou giggle-shrieks, tears springing back to her eyes as she thrashes against the chains restraining her wrists. “N-no more! I beg of you, Vel, _no more_!”

Velvet pauses suddenly, stares in frozen awe at Magilou’s trembling form for some moments, before she shakes it off and relents, moving to free Magilou from the bondage.

No, Magilou definitely wasn’t _cute_ right there. Not even for an instant.

(And if the next morning, the pirates start joking that the west tower might be haunted because someone thought they heard tortured screaming coming from that direction last night, that is none of Velvet’s goddamn business.)

* * *

“You _knew_.”

Velvet comes whirling into Magilou’s room hardly even ten minutes after they’ve booked rooms at the inn in Taliesin, that hiss spewing from her tongue as fury sears beneath her skin. This is something of a change in routine, Velvet coming straight to Magilou, when usually Magilou is the one who drops innuendos and dances around the subject until they end up in bed (or table or floor or wall) together. But Velvet’s not in the mood for that stupid foreplay game today. Not when she’s got a hell of a bone to pick.

Magilou, ever harboring a death wish, simply puts her finger to her forehead in mock-thought. “Why, knew what, my dear rampaging ravisher?”

“Don’t. None of your bullshit this time.” Velvet storms closer, her left hand seizing Magilou by the shoulder and digging partially-formed claws in _hard_. “The dream fog, Melchior’s illusions, that fake-as-hell happiness. You knew about it all before we ever even came into port.”

“Well, of course I did!” Magilou chimes, the perfect picture of cheer, before her carefree grin morphs into a sly smirk. “What, pissed that I didn’t tell you? We’re having a bet on whether or not you’ll break, Velvet. Why would I?”

“I know that. I never trusted you, and I never expected you to help me.” Velvet grabs Magilou’s other shoulder too and then _shoves_ , slamming her back against the inn wall. “But I’ve got some anger I need to work out, and I don’t have that bastard Melchior on hand to beat into a pulp.”

“Mmm, guess that makes me the best you can get, then?” Magilou shoots her a look like she’s enjoying this, like she _expected_ it, like Velvet is playing right into her fucking hands—and Velvet doesn’t even care that she is because now more than ever, all Velvet wants is to _mutilate_ _someone_.

“Just shut your _filthy whore mouth_.”

Velvet accentuates that command by swiftly yanking down Magilou’s skirt and shorts and panties in one go, and if that distinct rip she hears is the sound of cloth tearing at the seams, she can’t be assed to give a damn; surely Magilou has spares somewhere. Velvet promptly slams her whole fist up inside Magilou without bothering to prep her up, without caring if something inside Magilou _breaks_ , but with how fucking flexible she is, it’s not really a surprise when nothing does. Magilou takes it all in with a gargled noise that almost sounds _happy_ , so Velvet purposefully scratches down Magilou’s shoulder until she breaks through skin, clamps teeth sharply down on her neck in hopes of drawing blood there as well.

Velvet wants this to _hurt_ , just like how she was hurt back there in Aball. She can still feel the bile rising up her throat, the ice piercing her veins, the trembling of her every muscle when she tasted that sweet cream on her tongue and realized in an instant that it was all too good to be true. It slammed into her like she’d been plowed over by a rampaging Giganto, and even if she can only deliver a fraction of that pain to Magilou, even if doing so will never be enough to truly ease Velvet’s own agony, at least it’s _something_.

Telltale marks be damned, loud volume be damned, Velvet will do _anything_ so long as it hurts.

Magilou is doing a surprisingly good job of keeping quiet, though, her own hand covering her mouth, her agonized cries muffled behind clenched teeth and a firm palm. It’s _frustrating_ somehow, that she’s able express such self-control at a time like this, and it spurs Velvet on, urges her to give up on the shoulder and instead drill those claws deep into Magilou’s thigh. Sickly-hot blood seeps over her bandaged fingers while Velvet pumps her other hand deep inside, and Magilou whimpers, shudders, rucks up and squeezes _tight_ before her juices gush out and she ultimately goes lax.

Velvet frowns. That went by far too quickly.

She doesn’t much care whether or not her plaything can take any more; Velvet will have another go if she damn well feels like it. But before she has the chance to start up the second round, Magilou speaks up.

“So, that Niko chick. You…you were into her?”

Bitch just _has_ to test fate, doesn’t she?

In retrospect, Velvet supposes it must have been obvious, but she already doesn’t appreciate Magilou’s word games and pointed jabs on a regular basis, and she _really_ doesn’t have the patience for them now. “What the fuck does it matter to you?”

Magilou shrugs. “Just wondering if she’s the reason you never went and landed yourself a guy. Or…maybe guys were never even part of the picture in the first place. I haven’t missed the way you look at our pretty little exorcist sometimes, you know.”

Velvet huffs, but doesn’t bother denying it. As much as Laphi used to tease her that she’d never be able to land a husband, she’d never actually been interested in men and never was going to be. Girls, on the other hand…girls were always so beautiful, so interesting, so _captivating_. Particularly Niko—she always used to catch Velvet’s eye at the most inopportune moments—but at the time, Velvet didn’t fully understand herself. Her sexuality wasn’t anything she’d ever really let herself think about back when she was sixteen, and though she realized it after some retrospective reflection during her three years in isolation, by then, she was already a daemon and it didn’t matter anymore.

No point worrying about being a lesbian when you have to deal with the much more pressing issue of being a literal monster.

“Oh, like you’re one to talk.” Velvet hisses, pointedly glancing down to where her fist is still plunged up Magilou’s dripping cunt.

“Never said I was,” Magilou drawls. “Though for the record, I don’t swing any particular way. Doesn’t matter who gets me off so long as they do a good job of it.”

Velvet narrows her eyes. “Why come to me, then? I’m sure there are plenty of pirates around who would be more than glad to help you out with this.”

“Why, that answer’s simple, my darling!” Magilou bats her eyelashes, her voice dropping to a sultry tone. “Nobody else around here could ever do me the way you do.”

Velvet hates the way that actually makes something _throb_ within her chest, and does her best to force down the heat that abruptly rises to her cheeks. Of course Magilou didn’t mean that in any way other than the obvious: that Velvet is the one person in this group who’s violent and vengeful and sadistic enough to truly satiate Magilou’s crazy masochistic desires. Velvet’s not a fool either; she’s caught on to the fact that at least part of the reason Magilou always irritates her is just because she’s looking to be punished, to acquire whatever freaky sense of pleasure she gets out of getting hurt.

In that case, Velvet doesn’t mind giving her exactly what she wants.

Without warning, Velvet yanks her fist out of Magilou, reels it back, and punches her straight across the face. There’s a satisfying _t_ _hwack_ when her knuckles make harsh contact, Magilou’s head turning sharply to the side as a wail spews from her lips, and Velvet doesn’t give her the time to recover before she’s shooting her other hand up, curling both around Magilou’s throat. Her right hand is sticky with Magilou’s cum while her left still slides slick with blood, and Velvet pointedly overlaps her thumbs, presses them down on Magilou’s trachea with every intent of hindering her breathing.

“Guess that makes me the best you can get,” Velvet echoes in a low growl, and then zooms in, biting down fiercely on one of her ears. Magilou choke-moans and Velvet relishes the desperate noise for some seconds before pulling away, giving Magilou some breathing room as Velvet sets to work. Her hands swiftly undo the clasps of Magilou’s shirt, her mouth dips down to bite at the freshly-revealed perked nipple, her left fingers scratch gouges into her ribs—and throughout it all, Magilou throws her head back and eagerly spreads her legs.

So Velvet reintroduces her right fist and fucks Magilou against the wall even harder than before, until Magilou is crying, _sobbing_ from it. Velvet doesn’t actually care if Magilou likes it or not, if she comes or not, but _of course_ Magilou comes and of course it’s with such enthusiastic, _ecstatic_ force that it makes Velvet want to punch her again. So she does, this time with her left hand, and at just the right angle and with just enough force to make her nose bleed. As Magilou painfully rides out the aftershocks of her second climax, Velvet shakes out her bloodied left hand before shoving it into her shorts, touching herself until she promptly achieves one of her own.

When Velvet is aware of herself again, she’s sitting on the floor, slumped up against the wall beside Magilou, her body utterly spent.

“…So,” Magilou pipes up, her voice somewhat nasally as she wipes at her red-coated, still gushing nose. “That make you feel better?”

Perhaps it’s the post-coital high that loosens up Velvet’s lips, or perhaps it’s the lingering trauma left by those illusions in Aball, or perhaps it’s that phantom memory of what Magilou said to her— _people can fight against pain, but they can’t fight against happiness—_ a warning that Velvet didn’t heed but that for some reason Magilou still went out of her way to give. Velvet’s not sure why, but when she pushes herself back onto her feet and makes for the door, she answers Magilou’s question upfront.

“Not better enough,” Velvet finally admits.

(It may never be enough.)

* * *

After Aball, their nightly sessions together become much more frequent.

Velvet knows that it stems from her own growing desperation. The sex started as just an outlet for her frustrations but her frustrations have piled up and up, until somehow, the fucking has turned into a need. Velvet _needs_ to fuck Magilou, so that she can reach those cathartic highs, so that when she comes floating back down to earth, she can again muster the strength to steady her stance and keep moving forward.

Velvet needs to fuck Magilou, because if she wasn’t fucking Magilou at every opportunity she could get, she thinks she might actually have lost her mind long ago.

It’s a negative, spiraling loop, and the two of them are just dragging each other down, lower and lower and lower. Magilou becomes more feisty, and Velvet becomes more vengeful. Velvet bites and slaps and punches, and Magilou whets her words ever sharper on her tongue before piercing them through Velvet like knives. Magilou is punished over and over again: a fist shoved up her cunt, several fingers plunged up her asshole, claws piercing into her skin ever deeper and darker until they’re releasing cascades of red, until Magilou looks like she wants to cry. Sometimes, she really does cry.

Velvet is falling and she _knows_ that, but she doesn’t care enough to try and stop it because it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except killing Artorius, so all she needs to do is hang in there long enough to collect all the therions, weaken Innominat, and then _end it_ , once and for all.

Whatever happens after that, Velvet doesn’t give a rat’s ass.

…Until she finally faces Innominat.

She sees him for everything that he is, and it almost destroys her. She stares the reincarnation of her little brother straight in the eyes, and the ledge upon which she’d been standing this whole time crumbles beneath her feet. She falls and she falls and she braces herself to splatter into rock bottom, but instead Phi catches her, screams at her, snaps her out of it so that she emerges with her resolve firmer than ever.

Somehow, after it’s all over, knowing the truth at last brings Velvet a strange sort of peace.

It’s been a long fucking day, to say the least. After escaping from the earthpulse yet again, then facing off against Melchior, and Innominat, and a goddamn dragon, it’s no surprise they’re all tuckered out. Yet Velvet is also oddly invigorated, her blood pumping beneath her skin, fueling her with an enthusiasm so strange and so vibrant she’d forgotten how it felt. So some while after their group has checked into the inn at Port Cadnix and settled down for the night, Velvet finds herself restlessly venturing outside her room.

Velvet can’t tell if she’s the one who comes to Magilou or Magilou’s the one who comes to her, but somehow, there they both are, strolling towards each other from opposite ends of the hall, meeting in the middle to stare each other down. Velvet doesn’t really know what to say and she doesn’t have the chance to think of anything before Magilou suddenly reaches up, attempting to probe her fingers past Velvet’s lips.

Velvet nips at one with her teeth, and grins when Magilou flinches away with a yelp.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Magilou pouts. “I’m not convinced yet that you didn’t break. I _insist_ that you let me check your teeth.”

Ah, the bet. Figures she’d still be going on about that.

“Not happening,” Velvet says, though now her denial stems more from amusement in watching Magilou pout than from actual embarrassment of anyone seeing the inside of her mouth.

“You really are so stubborn,” Magilou sighs. She crosses her arms and shuts her eyes, shaking her head in mock-disappointment before peeping one eye back open. “Then…I suppose you’d really rather just be seen naked?”

“You know what?” Velvet chuckles, snatching up Magilou by the wrist and dragging her along as she resumes her trek down the hall. “I think I would.”

It’s not desperation that drives Velvet this time, and no longer is she letting herself fall down that depressive spiral. The sex isn’t a _need_ , at least not for tonight, but…it’s not something Velvet wants to give up, either. After all, she’s been fucking Magilou for months, and there’s no point in letting a perfectly good arrangement die now.

So they go to Magilou’s room, locking the door behind them, and then they’re combining into a tornado that whips through the room, four hands all setting to work. Magilou tugs at her cape and fumbles with the belt at Velvet’s collarbone while Velvet undoes the clasps of Magilou’s shirt and fur collar; Magilou pulls free the strings crisscrossing Velvet’s abdomen just in time for Velvet to send the book-skirt clattering to the floor. They both shrug off their tops and shed their accessories, and as they fall into bed together, so too are their pants discarded so that they’re entirely bare before each other.

Velvet pins Magilou beneath her on the mattress, and her captive gazes up expectantly, multicolored eyes shimmering like northern lights.

“You really wanna know if any of my teeth are broken?” Velvet murmurs, and bends down to Magilou’s neck, fluttering her lips over the rapidly beating pulse. “Let’s test them out then.”

Velvet bites down into the tender flesh there while her fingernails scrape down Magilou’s sides, light but pointed. Magilou wriggles eagerly, her soft gasps morphing into stifled moans behind pursed lips as Velvet sucks hard, curls her fingers like claws into Magilou’s hipbones—but this time, she has no intentions of breaking skin. Velvet has no more anger built up that she needs to let out, no more desire to turn Magilou into a beat-up bloody wreck.

Tonight, Velvet’s just not in the mood for the real rough stuff. No blood, no blindfolds, no gags, no bondage. Not even any forceful touches, just Velvet’s teeth nipping along her collarbone, and her fingers sliding down to trace teasing paths over the skin of Magilou’s inner thighs, press circles into her clit. Velvet relishes the way Magilou shudders and whines, but even as Magilou melts into putty, she seems off-put by it all—unsure, and confused, because this isn’t the sheer violence that she’s so used to, that she finds some strange _comfort_ in.

“And what is this?” Magilou says, her breath ragged and wavering. “Going soft on me, my Red Velvet Cake?”

Velvet scoffs before shrugging. “Just felt like a change of pace for once. Don’t get used to it.”

Magilou blinks, apparently thrown off by that answer, but she recovers quickly, pasting that smug smile right back on. “So you’re vanilla tonight then? Oooh, better get my fill before that’s gone.”

Velvet does _not_ find all that awful cake-based punnery amusing in the slightest, and it’s definitely _not_ the reason she finds herself cracking a smile as down below, Magilou slips her hand into the space between her own knee and Velvet’s crotch. Velvet doesn’t even pause in her stimulation of Magilou’s clit as she accommodates, lifting her hips in response to Magilou’s touch, but accompanying it with a hissed warning.

“If I don’t like what you’re doing down there, I’ll break your wrist.”

Magilou chuckles. “Yes ma’am.”

Magilou sets to work and Velvet quickly finds that being touched makes it suddenly harder for her to concentrate, as electric jolts zap up her spine and Velvet is forced to muffle her own pleasured noises by biting down on her lip. Magilou plunges three fingers inside her, curls and spreads while simultaneously thumbing her clit, and Velvet throws her head back despite herself. Her mind drifts into a haze but still her fingers move as if on instinct, following Magilou’s example exactly, and Velvet’s bucking hips ride out the surges until the dam _b_ _urst_ _s_ …

Velvet’s not actually sure which of them comes first because it’s practically simultaneous, the sudden tightness around her fingers occurring in near-perfect sync with the clenching of her own walls. Once Velvet has seen her orgasm to completion and regains enough awareness of herself to look down, she sees that the result is a pool of sticky fluid sliding between their legs, where she can’t tell how much of it is Magilou’s and how much is her own.

When Velvet adjusts her gaze to Magilou’s face, swirled purple and green gaze up at her with a look almost like a baby animal—wide-eyed, awed, like she’s just experienced something entirely new. Admittedly, it was pretty new for Velvet too, but she doesn’t think either of them disliked it.

Just for kicks, Velvet dives down to bite her again, this time on the other side of her neck, delighting in Magilou’s yelp of surprise as she shifts to sucking and gentle nibbling. When she finally pulls away, she licks her lips and levels Magilou with a smirk.

“So? Anything broken?”

Magilou flashes a defeated smile before sighing melodramatically. “I suppose not.”

“Then I believe someone owes me 100 gald.”

Magilou pouts and puts her hand to her chest, wriggles her hips in what’s clearly a halfhearted, almost joking attempt at a seductive pose. “I don’t suppose I can pay you off with my body?”

Velvet rolls her eyes. In truth, she doesn’t care about the bet at all, but denying Magilou’s wishes never stops being fun.

“Not a chance,” Velvet says, promptly shoving her right fingers back inside Magilou as her left covers Magilou’s mouth to stifle her cry. “But I’ll gladly take your body anyway.”

* * *

After they kill Melchior, Magilou is eager.

Maybe a little too eager.

In the aftermath of awakening the Four Elemental Empyreans, the party decides to rest for a night in Meirchio before they continue the final stretch of their journey. Hardly even a minute after the rest of the group has dispersed, Magilou all but leaps onto Velvet to drag her into her room, her grin positively shit-eating, her eyes gleaming with a light that Velvet’s not sure she’s ever seen before.

“So,” Magilou gasps, once they hit the bed, already yanking off her shirt and skirt and shorts—and damn, that may be the fastest Velvet’s seen her undress yet. “You thought about that gift you were gonna give me for saving all our butts at the volcano?”

Velvet shrugs. “Too late. I already took back my gratitude.”

“Oh come _on_ , Velvet.” Magilou pouts, but she’s already undoing the clasp at Velvet’s chest, and Velvet isn’t even trying to stop her. “Old man Melchior was like, _my_ Artorius. Help me celebrate, just this once.”

This definitely isn’t the routine. Their deal is that Velvet does whatever she wants to Magilou to let out her own stress, while Magilou gets herself high on those doses of pain that she just can’t seem to get enough of. But right now, Magilou doesn’t seem to want pain. No, she wants what Velvet usually wants—and by likening her own former master to Artorius, Magilou’s speaking a language that Velvet understands all too well.

Magilou was once Melchior’s foster daughter. Velvet may not know exactly what that relationship meant to either of them, but if they were anything like her and Artorius, she’s sure Magilou has several things she needs to work through right now. After facing the man who used to be her family, after purposely causing him to die right before her eyes…Magilou wants to take it out on someone.

Best to let Magilou do that sooner rather than later, if she’s to be in top shape for the ultimate battle ahead.

Still, Velvet isn’t about to make this _too_ easy for her. “What happened to not caring about anything?”

“Oh, apathy is so overrated.” Magilou, now finished with undoing all the straps and clasps of Velvet’s cape and shirt, puts her chin in her hands and flutters her lashes prettily. “Please, Velvet. Let me have this one.”

Velvet rolls hers eyes, but she’s not _not_ in the mood for some good release after claiming victory over two legates and reawakening the world’s gods. No harm in playing along.

“Just so we’re clear,” Velvet says, shrugging off her now loosened top, “this isn’t actually me thanking you. I’m just doing what I feel like.”

“Whatever you say,” Magilou drawls, as Velvet willingly falls back against the mattress, and Magilou pulls her shorts down and off before returning to straddle her hips. “But remember, sweetie. You may be my dark mistress, but I’m still your troupe mistress.”

That’s all the warning Velvet gets before Magilou dives down and bites her breast.

Velvet manages to muffle her surprised noise behind her pursed lip, and she arches her back as Magilou scrapes teeth over her nipple, licks a slow path around the erect peak before trailing kisses down, down, down. Magilou leaves a lingering butterfly kiss to her bellybutton before abruptly yanking back, and Velvet frowns, but then Magilou snatches up both of her wrists, and Velvet offers no resistance as they’re pinned above her head.

Magilou crawls up and, crazy magician that she is, literally yanks out a ribbon from her sleeves. It’s silk, Velvet figures, by the feel of it as Magilou wraps it around and around her hands, and Velvet complies by holding perfectly still.

“Oooh, good girl,” Magilou purrs, as she finishes the knot and pulls her hands back. Velvet yanks her own hands experimentally and finds the ties tight, her wrists firmly bound together. “There. My gift, all wrapped up and ready for me to unravel.”

Velvet rolls her eyes. They both know she could break out of this easily if she really wanted; she’d only need to unleash her left hand’s daemon form. But if Magilou needs to top to be satiated, it’d be best to just let her.

Besides, Velvet’s never bottomed before. She might as well get in a good one.

“Probably should ask for ground rules at this point,” Magilou chimes, then sighs at Velvet’s confused stare. “You know, boundaries.”

Velvet furrows her brow. “Since when do we do boundaries?”

“Well, _I_ don’t have any, sure. But does the same hold true for you, my dear?”

Velvet quickly flips through myriad possibilities in her mind, including everything she’s forced on Magilou these past few months. Though she purses her lip at the idea of certain things happening around her mouth, she doesn’t outright recoil at anything else, so Velvet tips her head backwards and first lists her ultimate condition:

“Don’t fucking kiss me.”

Magilou grins. “Didn’t have the intention. Anything else?”

“No freaky gags.”

“Bite back your sounds then.” Magilou licks her lips and, inexplicably, yanks out a pirate handkerchief from her sleeve, dangles it between thumb and forefinger. “Blindfold okay?”

“I’m not saying no.”

When Magilou wraps the cloth over her eyes, the world goes entirely dark, and once deprived of one of her senses, Velvet finds the others heightened. She’s now all too aware of her own naked, sweating, hot and primed-up body, as Magilou hovers her mouth over her neck, breath washing warm and tingly over her skin.

Velvet murmurs, “You’d better make this worth my damn while.”

“Oho, sweetpea!” Magilou giggles madly, as if Velvet’s just told the funniest joke in the world. “Sorry, but you’re not running the show tonight.”

Magilou clamps teeth down on the point of her pulse and Velvet bites down on a gasp, her toes curling when Magilou then sucks hard and brings in her hands to tweak both her nipples. Magilou stays there for a while, tongue trailing a wet path down to her collarbone as her fingers deliver brief, erratic pinches over her chest, before she pulls back entirely. Velvet is left to wait in trembling uncertainty before Magilou eventually returns, this time with her hands thumbing her hipbones and her mouth suckling at one of her teats.

All throughout, Magilou’s oddly gentle, nothing like how Velvet would be in her position. Velvet would hit and hurt, scratch and leave pain; even when pleasuring Magilou, her every movement would be swift and sudden and harsh. But then, Magilou _likes_ the pain in a way that nobody else in the world ever could, Velvet included, so Magilou is instead slow and methodical. She ebbs and flows like the tide, lingering over each of Velvet’s sensitive spots before quickly yanking back, brushing over them in promises she might or might not fulfill.

God, Magilou’s teasing her. _Of course_ Magilou’s teasing her, what else did Velvet expect?

Even without pain, this is somehow still so awful. Hell, it’s _worse_ even, because pain has been there for ages, pain could come from anyone or anything, and after all this time, Velvet could handle pain. But this sensation of being played with, this physical taunting, this sheer aggravation that boils her blood and burns beneath her skin…that’s something only Magilou can do to her.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Velvet hisses when Magilou finally, _finally_ places a hand between her legs, gently thumbs over the curve of her inner thigh—and then denies her by pulling away entirely. “You little _shitstain_.”

“Oh please,” Magilou drawls. “If you didn’t like this, you’d have broken out of there in an instant. So just relax and let me take the reins here, beautiful.”

Her touch returns, fingernails tip-tip-tapping over the corner of Velvet’s crotch, dawdling near but still refusing to go exactly where Velvet _needs_ her. The suspense has worn her down thinner than paper when Velvet opens her mouth to issue a threat, but as at last, Magilou presses down on her clit, the words instantly dissolve. Velvet grits her teeth to keep herself quiet as she bucks her hips, and Magilou continues stimulating the nub with her thumb as she carefully inserts one, two, three fingers inside.

Magilou thrusts herself in and out, in and out, and Velvet moves in sync with her, relishing the sweet friction against her walls, before suddenly the hand pulls out entirely. Velvet’s about to groan in protest when she hears an amused grunt and feels what is unmistakably a pair of lips kissing her _other_ lips, remaining for only a second before withdrawing. Velvet may not be able to see Magilou but she can _feel_ her, hovering, her breath hot against dripping curls, and the victorious smirk she must be wearing flashes quite clearly in Velvet’s mind.

“What,” Velvet gasps, “you want me to beg or something?”

“Well, by all means, feel free to do so,” Magilou says. “But it won’t really change anything, to be honest. I’m just taking my time, taking in the view.”

Velvet scoffs. “Like what you see, then?”

Magilou doesn’t answer immediately, rare for someone with such a quick wit and smart mouth. When she finally does speak, it’s a murmur so low Velvet’s not even sure she heard it right.

“Might even love it.”

Before Velvet can so much as process that information, teeth suddenly scrape over her clit.

Velvet nearly cries out but bites down on her own lip just in time, and she endeavors to hold her own tongue while Magilou’s laps at her entrance, swirls paths around her hood. Velvet is so wound up, it hardly takes another minute before she hits the peak, clenching and riding out her own release while Magilou doesn’t stop licking for even a moment.

 _F_ _uck_ , that girl is way too good with her damn mouth.

Velvet sinks deeper into the mattress and is still in the midst of catching her breath when Magilou moves, her weight shifting on the bed and crawling upwards. Hands reach behind Velvet’s head and the blindfold falls from her face seconds later, allowing her a perfect view of the wicked witch who looms over her with a smug smile.

“Yoo hoo, my Coo-Coo,” Magilou calls, waggling her fingers in greeting, and Velvet glares daggers. Ugh, is she _never_ gonna let the dove thing go?

Enough is enough. She let Magilou have her fun; now Velvet needs to take back her rightful spot on top.

Velvet unleashes her left arm—not fully, but just enough. The ribbon snaps in coordination with a strategic twist of her hips, and once freed, Velvet’s right hand quickly zeroes in on the bumps of Magilou’s ribs that she remembers being awfully sensitive. She flutters her fingers there, and Magilou instantly jerks to the side, squawking, frantically attempting to roll away, but Velvet doggedly follows. Her now resealed left hand joins in on the tickling too, until Magilou is pinned face-up beneath her, twitching on the mattress, completely at Velvet’s mercy.

“ _No_!” Magilou yelps through helpless giggles, uselessly attempting to bat Velvet away. “N-not that, please! Anything but that!”

Velvet quirks a brow. “I thought you said you didn’t have any boundaries.”

“T-that’s not—!” Magilou squeaks when Velvet shifts focus to the weakpoint that is her hips, and her hands abandon their paltry defense to display themselves in desperate surrender. “Oh god, p-please, _please_ Velvet! _Do_ _hoho_ _n’t_!”

…Okay, yeah, that’s cute, Velvet finally admits to herself. Magilou is very cute right now.

Velvet doesn’t intend on torturing her today, though. Wouldn’t do to get her screaming like that again without a gag, and Velvet still has other business in mind for her troupe mistress, so her attack only lasts a few seconds longer before she lets up. Magilou is still whimpering with the remnants of laughter as she catches her breath, and Velvet can’t help chuckling herself, surprising herself with how light she feels.

“It’s my turn now,” Velvet says, grasping at Magilou’s breast and squeezing it hard.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Magilou moans, squirming but making a show of it, clearly hamming it up. “Please, my dark mistress, forgive me!”

That’s actually funny enough that Velvet snorts. “Never.”

And with that, Velvet flashes a predatory grin, dips down to bite at an ultra-sensitive pointy ear, and promptly proceeds to give Magilou hell.

* * *

They never do stop fucking.

It’s not as violent anymore, not nearly as vicious as it used to get back before Hexen Isle, but the basics of their original arrangement are still intact. Velvet still finds satisfaction in making Magilou squeal and squirm, Magilou still loves getting subjected to whatever rough stuff she can get, and they are continually and repeatedly drawn into each other’s orbits. These encounters are something Velvet has grown all too accustomed to, and despite it no longer being a need, it’s still something of a habit, because for what it is, it’s…

Well. It’s _fun_.

As close to fun as Velvet can get, anyway, when she’s just got that one final stepping stone to her ultimate goal hanging over her head. But Velvet can’t deny that she’s come to genuinely enjoy herself when she’s with Magilou, and in the midst of what surely are the final missions this ragtag group will undertake in this long journey, Velvet figures she might as well let herself enjoy whatever she can.

So it’s just par for the course when they fall into bed together the night before the Empyrean’s Throne.

The final battle is tomorrow. Their whole group has decided and agreed—they’ve built up their strength, they’ve prepared, they’ve done all they can here. So at last, it’s time to end this, to destroy everything that Innominat and Artorius are trying to achieve once and for all. Velvet will burn their precious ideals to ashes and then bury them both, one way or another.

That determination spurs Velvet on as she pins Magilou to the bed and fists her to climax from behind, sweat and cum sliding slick and hot between them until Magilou is spent and limp, face buried in the bed. The mere sight is enough to get Velvet wet and worked up herself, so she shifts around and straightens up before tangling her fingers in Magilou’s hair and yanking her in, muffling her cry of surprise with the flesh between Velvet’s legs. Velvet sits with her back against the bedboard as her hands twist at Magilou’s locks, draw lightly pained whimpers, until Magilou arches her neck so that her mouth can work its magic right where Velvet wants it.

Velvet shudders and bucks into that expert tongue until she reaches sweet release, and in the aftermath, they both pant for breath as Velvet lets go of Magilou’s hair and Magilou rolls onto her back. Once she’s recovered, Magilou starts scissoring her legs together, insatiable as ever, and Velvet figures neither of them would be opposed to another round. Best to release as much tension as they can tonight, loosen themselves up before they sleep so they can be in top shape in the morning.

But before Velvet has the chance to act, Magilou speaks up.

“…Hey, Velvet,” she says, the sticky slime in her mouth actually audible in her voice. “What’s your plan here, exactly? For the final battle.”

Velvet blinks before furrowing her brow. “Same as it’s always been. Seal away Innominat, and kill Artorius.”

“No, not just that. You’ve got gears turning in that pretty little head of yours, I can tell.” Magilou lazily puts her hands behind her head, and her eyes focus on some point on the ceiling as if stargazing. “Couldn’t be sure exactly what, but you’re thinking about something. Something you haven’t really been sharing with the class.”

Velvet sighs with her whole body, but she’s not that surprised Magilou figured it out. From the very start, Magilou was all too good at reading Velvet; she used to be such a _bitch_ about identifying Velvet’s weaknesses and pointing them out with the most cutting remarks at the most devastating times. But right now, Velvet doesn’t sense toying or mocking in Magilou’s tone, not like there always was back when she was trying to get a rise out of her. This is softer than that, and it reminds her of how Magilou sounded when she asked Velvet what it felt like to hate—it’s an actual question, spurned on by actual uncertainty.

Velvet bites her lip and thinks back on the nature of Innominat’s existence: how his connects to hers and Phi’s, and how her power as a therion ties in with his ability to consume malevolence. If she’s right, she knows exactly how this has to end, and Velvet still isn’t keen on telling any of the others about the details. But at the very least, Eleanor already knows that there is a plan, even if she doesn’t know _exactly_ what it is, so Velvet doesn’t really mind if Magilou has her own theories as well.

“Am I now?” Velvet keeps her words vague but leans over Magilou to meet her eyes steadily, and Magilou stares back with a knowing smirk.

“Well, I don’t expect you to spill the beans on my account, of course.” Magilou flippantly waves her hand. “I’m only here so I can see how this all ends, after all.”

Velvet scoffs, shoving down the small part of her that still aches at the thought of what she’ll probably have to do, what she’s by now _resigned_ herself to do. “Playing the same card straight up to the end, huh?”

Magilou barks out a laugh. “You’re one to talk.”

“And you don’t care, right?”

“Nope. Not one bit.”

They both smile, the blatant lie hovering in the air above them, but Velvet lets the banter die there as all her potential rebuttals go unsaid. Velvet isn’t interested in words right now, only action, and when she glances down to where Magilou is still clenching her thighs tight against each other, inspiration strikes.

“Better make sure you leave no regrets,” Velvet murmurs, in echo of what Magilou said ages ago back in Meirchio. Do what you can while you still can.

Magilou blinks twice. “Hmm?”

Instead of answering the unspoken question, Velvet locks gazes with Magilou and sharpens her tongue.

“Spread,” she commands, and Magilou obeys instantly.

Thin legs part and Velvet swiftly heaves herself into the space created between them, bending her head down. She can’t say the thought of what she’s about to do is exactly appealing, but Magilou asked for this, once. Velvet didn’t indulge her then or any time since, but things are different now, because one way or another, this will likely be their last night together.

So Velvet _will_ make it count.

“I never did eat you, did I?” Velvet murmurs, and glances up into wide, hazed-over, excited eyes. “Might as well give it a whirl.”

With that, Velvet tucks her hair behind her ears and dives in tongue first.

There is no taste, and though that fact brings her no joy, Velvet’s more or less used to it by now. Whether or not witch actually tastes any good will forever be a mystery to her, so Velvet terminates the pointless line of thought to focus on the task at hand. The slimy flesh around her face is honestly somewhat gross, and though Velvet tries to imitate what Magilou’s mouth has done to her countless times before, her tongue still feels so strange as it licks over Magilou’s curls.

Velvet wishes she could see Magilou’s face right now, but she settles for enjoying the trembling in the legs around her ears, the muted gasps that slip out from behind Magilou’s palm, the eager humping motions against Velvet’s chin. Velvet latches onto those responses and lets them fuel her movements because if Magilou’s reacting, Velvet’s got to be doing _something_ right. She scrapes teeth and sweeps tongue, she closes her lips around Magilou’s clit and gently sucks; Magilou lets out a particularly enthused whine and Velvet closes her eyes to imagine how she must look: lips pursed with strain, eyes squeezed shut, whole body abuzz with heat and shimmering with sweat.

It’s all too obvious when Magilou comes. Legs clench just briefly around Velvet’s head before going loose and limp, and her ears pick up a long moan of relief followed by short, breathless whimpers. Even then, Velvet doesn’t stop until she has to come up for breath, her lips smacking with stick, her chin dripping with Magilou’s juices. Magilou is positively _glowing_ with glee, and something about the satisfaction curling her lips sets alight Velvet’s vindictive side, makes her want to utterly undo Magilou all over again…

Velvet dips down and locks their lips together before she can stop herself.

They’ve fucked so many times but they’ve never kissed, because the mere thought of it sent Velvet’s stomach churning and for whatever reason, Magilou respected her space. But right now, Velvet doesn’t care about that; all she cares about is the thrill that rushes through her as she takes charge by shoving her tongue straight into Magilou’s mouth, the triumph that thrums in her blood when Magilou _gags_ on it. But Magilou only spends a few seconds coughing against Velvet before she recovers, her lips parting, her tongue flicking invitingly over Velvet’s intruding one.

Magilou quickly takes the lead and Velvet’s never done this before so she lets her, the initially harsh kiss transforming into a slow, slobbery mess. Magilou playfully nips at her lip and even as Velvet tries to tell herself she only started this to make Magilou choke, she finds herself getting sucked further and further in. All the reasons, all the sense, all the _excuses_ —they fly away as Velvet is forced to come to a single, startling conclusion:

She has never known a lover’s kiss, but this might actually be something close.

They remain like that for who knows how long, lips locked, sticky and slippery against each other. When at last, Velvet finally does pull away, a string of mixed saliva and cum stretches between their mouths, and even after they fully separate, the thread doesn’t snap for several seconds. When it finally does, Magilou is the first to move, licking her lips and carefully meeting Velvet’s gaze.

“…So,” Magilou eventually ventures. “That make you feel better?”

Velvet takes a deep breath before allowing herself a smile. “Yeah. It did.”

But now it’s over, all of it. Finality hovers in the air above them, ringing out in the telltale silence, and though somewhere deep in her gut, Velvet aches to stay, she knows she can’t. She’s on the very cusp of completing her mission, and this is the very worst time at which she could afford to let her mind be plagued by unnecessary, stupidly wishful distractions.

“I’ll be counting on you tomorrow,” Velvet mutters hastily, rolling off the bed, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

Magilou smiles—not a showman’s grin, but something smaller, softer, so much more beautiful. “I know.”

Velvet nods and forces herself not to look back at Magilou as she swiftly dresses, tries to ignore the way her face flushes with warmth. Her heart beats hard and fast in her chest as she hastens her pace out Magilou’s room, back down the hall to her own, and once Velvet has securely closed the door to assure her privacy, she throws herself onto her bed. Placing her fingers over her lips, she closes her eyes and recalls the way Magilou’s mouth felt against hers: inviting, and electric, not nearly as intense as sex but still leaving pleasurable, wonderful, _warm_ sparks all down her spine.

…That was Velvet’s first kiss.

* * *

(That was Velvet’s last kiss.)


End file.
